


yet another half baked levi fic

by partybird_dot_jpg



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: F/M, GN Reader, Other, dom reader, light degredation, reader voice: have you ever considered not being such a shameless bottom?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:13:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28231476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partybird_dot_jpg/pseuds/partybird_dot_jpg
Summary: idk man i wrote it for the funny bits and then suddenly had four google docs pages of porn
Relationships: Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 99





	yet another half baked levi fic

Leviathan is staring at you. Eyes wide, pupils blown out, face both flushed and a little sweaty. Granted, the last part isn’t usually  _ too _ uncommon, but… In context,  _ especially _ with what you’d just said to him-- It just confuses you. Gives your stomach an anxious little twist as you bring a hand to your mouth, immediately apologetic-- Caught between extending your free, rapidly sweating hand toward him and keeping it close to your chest, just in case you’re promptly ejected from the otaku’s haven that he calls a room. 

“I’m sorry-- I’m sorry, that wasn’t-- I didn’t mean for that to come out that way, I-- ”

He works his lips into a thin line, averting his eyes, and clears his throat. 

“... N-no, it’s--” A shaky, unsteady breath-- Which contrasts, starkly, with the rapidly changing gleam in his eyes; From hurt, to something starstruck, to something tinged with an edge of  _ something _ that you’ve come to know as a solid marker of a  _ good _ time yet to come. “I-- Can you say it again? It’s not-- I’m not mad, o-okay? Just-- Just say it again. You can be meaner if you want-- I know you don’t mean it, but…”

… It hits you, then, precisely what’s going on. You’re a little surprised, of course-- In all the time that you’ve been together, his more carnal personal interests outside of the occasional ‘watch this hentai for the plot’ binges have been… Something of an enigma. You’re also a  _ touch _ pissed that he’d skipped the step where he said he was a fan before you got all twisted up over it, which makes the next few actions you take all the more harsh-- Compared to the usual tender tone of the last few times you’ve been together. 

“... Colors,” you exhale, shifting back a bit, straightening your back and crossing one leg over the other from your-- normally unintimidating, definitely not top appropriate- position in the best stuffed beanbag chair in the room. “We’re doing colors. Stoplight. Green for good, yellow for too much, slow down, and red for a hard stop. Use them. Am I clear?”

A pause. He’s shivering already, which isn’t your intention, but-- It’s a good sign. He sets his controller down, takes a sharp breath, and nods. 

“... Use your words, baby,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest to contrast the softer edge of your own words. “Or this stops before we start. I refuse to hurt you, and I need to know that you’ll be able to listen to basic instructions.”

_ That _ gets his attention. He shoots upright, straight backed and flushed, ducking his head apologetically.as he speaks-- A hurried, horny jumble that barely passes for words. You raise your eyebrow, and shake your head, tutting quietly. 

“Slow it down,” You say, fondly, though the warmth is buried under the edge you take on to keep your voice sharp and steady. “Take a breath. I’m not going anywhere. I don’t want you passing out because you forgot to breathe or something, you know?”

Leviathan is… He’s trying. You know he’s trying. But it takes him a minute to stutter something barely comprehensible, then two to try again, with how flustered he is. Eventually, though, he catches on something-- Maybe the casual flash of your thighs as you kick your foot from its position over your shin, letting the faint strip of skin between sock and shorts bare just a bit more than it did, previously. It centers him. Forces him to focus. If you weren’t so horribly, horribly horny, you might’ve felt embarrassed.

“I-- I’m-” He’s so fucking cute like this. Flushed to the point where he looks almost lightheaded, desperately clutching at the tops of his thighs through his pants. You just kind of want to take his head and squish his cheeks until he laughs, until the tension fades from his posture, but-- Not yet. Not now. “I’m fine with-- With stoplight colors. I’ll let you know a-a-as often as I can-” Pause. He works his lower lip between his teeth, and after a moment, flicks those gorgeous eyes of his toward you. Slit pupils blown wide, lidded just so slightly. 

“I’ll l-let you know, M-” Oh. Oh fuck. “M-Master--”

Son of a  _ bitch _ .

You try very, very hard not to let the way he lets it fall from his lips like a prayer get to you, but it’s like pushing a boulder the size of a small house up a hill by hand-- You’re already struggling, just a little, to keep your composure. 

So, you decide to improvise. 

Bringing your legs down from where you’d crossed them, you gracelessly move to stand-- A day of sitting on your ass leaving your gait with something to be desired, as you wobble over to the hand-me-down gaming chair that’d been tucked into your little station near his desk-- Turning it around with a soft creak, so that it faces where he sits. You briefly consider rolling it over there without sitting in it, but-- Holy shit. Your leg is asleep. Your leg is asleep and you’re going to  _ fucking _ die. Unceremoniously, and with an exclamation that sounds not unlike a wild animal dying, you flop back into the chair gracelessly, prompting Leviathan to ease off the horny, just for a moment. 

“Ah-- What’s wrong?” He asks, tone still just a little flustered, though you’re relieved to know that he’s willing to stop mid scene at all to ask. “Are you okay? Is it your--”

You wave him off, miserable, lamenting the curse of having a circulatory system and also the concept of bean bags. After a few moments, you manage a frustrated, heated, 

“It’s my leg, yeah. Give me a second and I’ll get right back to making sure you get put in your  _ place _ ,” A shiver. A shift. He sits back down on his haunches, not unlike a dog about to get a treat. “ Unless you can’t restrain yourself. I wouldn’t be surprised, considering.” 

As your leg does its best to fuck the mood over in a big way, you scoot the chair closer to him-- Once, twice, three times. Until there’s a yard or so between you. After a few beats, as his brow furrows in-- what you assume is-- mock confusion, you grin-- Sitting upright in place, arms and legs crossed once your leg isn’t tingling as badly. A soft shiver works down your spine, as you watch him wait expectantly for you to continue.

“... You know. Considering you  _ are _ just a filthy otaku.” You clarify, leaning forward and resting your chin on one of your palms. “How hard is it for you to hold off, even now? How long has it been since you’ve had someone to remind you of who you  _ really _ are? ” 

He opens his mouth-- Lips parted in a small ‘o’ that barely shows the sharp white of his fangs-- and moans-- Low in his throat, almost a growl. Hot! You think you can see the beginnings of a split in his tongue, which is--  _ Also _ hot! It’s a shame that you can’t just lay there and let him eat you like a wild animal, but, you suppose that’s something to save for later discussion.

“Use your words,” you prompt. “I want to hear how much of a degenerate you really are, under all your attempts at convincing me otherwise.”

A breath. He grips his thighs just a touch closer together, averts his gaze again, flush bright red and jesus fucking christ, you know he’s a demon, but  _ anyone _ flushed that red is bound to be a little lightheaded-- Right? There’s something in his expression that makes you want to reach out to him-- Smooth his hair down and tell him it’s okay. 

But he hasn’t called it there, yet. He might be overwhelmed, though, so you drop the cool tone and speak with something closer to your usual warmth. 

“Color?” 

A pause. He blinks, owlishly, before looking up at you. Perhaps remembering your earlier instructions, he opens his mouth not unlike his fish-- Who he’d shut behind privacy curtains a few seconds after he’d started getting horny over being called a ‘fucking dirty otaku’-- mouthing briefly at open air before he clears his throat, pushing one hand between his thighs. 

“Green-- Really, really green. I just-- I just…”

He trails off. Shifts a little. Is he getting off on this?

“... I--” And the flush returns, brighter, deeper than ever. “I haven’t… In the last couple centuries, I haven’t-- Not irl…? So I don’t-- I need to…” 

Aside from using text speak in normal, horny conversation, that’s an admission that you were anticipating. You take a small breath, nod. At least he was trying his best to keep from nutting too early-- You have to give him credit for that.

“We need to take it slower to accommodate,” You say. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much. You good to keep going? Don’t hesitate to tell me to slow down-- Yellow’s the word.”

He nods, a small, warm smile working its way onto his lips. You’re already feeling a small rush of fondness, but he follows the look up by answering. 

“Yeah, I-- I’m good to keep going. Love you.” 

Ah, motherfucker. You hate him so much. Who gave him the right to look at you like that? The nerve of it all.

“Love you too.”


End file.
